My Life

So I have been quiet for a bit. I have a very good reason, trust me. I promised myself that this year was going to be my year. I have my hands in many things, but my big project is finally becoming a reality. Nikkol Jelenic ofNikkol Jelenic Art made the announcement for me by way of unveiling the main character of my upcoming comic book!

Check out her site for some great commission art, she is an amazing talent and a name to watch as she rises to fame in the comic world. She has teamed up with comic book legend Mark McKenna on some projects and just released her second book in the “A Time for Killing” series. A personal favorite of mine is her pencils covered with Mark’s inks on a Deadpool headshot that is framed on my wall. Check out Mark McKenna at his official site and his amazing childrens series, Banana Tail

I have kept a semi-regular journal. I actually have many, many journals. I see a cool, cheap one in a store or online, I grab it. Most of these are blank, but a few I have stuck with and continued to use them. I have this thing for composition notebooks, they look cool and you can doodle on the covers. I doodle a lot. My recent acquisitions have been Doctor Who themed, The Doctor’s500 year journal and the Limited Edition Deluxe Doctor Who River Song’s TARDIS Journal as well. Please take notice of the TARDIS one and the photo and description. I love the “Embossed, leather-look cover”. The “440 textured and aged-looking blank pages await your dreams” are simply an amazing “ full size replica of River Song’s journal“. Here is an real photo, note that I have had it a bit and it is now slightly worn.

Gallifreyan and Anonymous stickers by ME.

Yeah, I got fooled into a $10.00 “replica” by the tiny mistake of not reading the fine print. I am not mad, I know Doctor Who merchandise is usually very expensive, but I was at least hoping that the pages were “textured and aged-looking”. Nope, these pages are cut and dry… Cut. The Official Doctor Who and BBC logos on the back, along with a barcode, also bug me a bitsy-witsy.

I just realized that journals were not what I was going to write about. I was actually going to rant about my mix-up with doctors and how because of that, I now have to be at the doctor’s office at exactly 8 o’clock in the fricking morning! If you know me, or of me, you should know I am not, repeat NOT, a morning person. I can stay UP until morning, but if I had gone to bed some enhanced way, I would never make this appointment. Speaking of that, I need to clean my self and paint/glue/dirt encrusted hands. Making stuff gets messy ya know.

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I am jumping about ten years ahead in my story about a Cold War BRAT. I just have to today, devastating news does that.

There was a girl… Isn’t that how most stories begin? This girl was so beautiful and a bit out of my league, but I chanced it. I felt I could be open with her because she seemed to be holding back, her eyes were full of mystery and sadness. I knew that feeling well.

We ended up “going out” and we both did stupid things that lead to jealousy. All was forgiven though, she was an amazing girl.

After our mutual mistakes, I remember this the most, we laid in bed and just held each other and talked. All day! Nothing sexual about it, just a closeness of knowing. It was a beautiful day.

Today, this girl now a woman is in pain. A pain no parent should endure. I wish I could relive that day, that girl and that soothing feeling of close. I wish I could ease her pain but cannot.

My Jenni in Erlangen, I will be here for you when you need me. I love you my dear friend.

I gather from my last post, you can probably tell I want to go back to Germany, right? I do, I very much do! One thing I would love to do is visit all my old houses, or the spots where they once stood at least. It has been a long time and I know things have changed, they always do.

Well the other day I got an email announcing Halestorm‘s German tour dates ( I don’t know if they are public knowledge yet, so I will stay mum ) and got a great idea. I have tried to get a major interview with Halestorm, well any big name artist really, but mainly Halestorm. So I thought to myself, “Why not pitch the idea to Atlantic records and my contact the idea of me traveling with them?”! I could be a tour guide, I have lived all over the country. I could be a translator, well not a pro translator as my German has faded in the years. I could also be a journalist, like a reporter embedded with the troops during wars ( This would be much safer ). It would be a win situation for all parties.

I will not accept or ask for a salary, just pay my way. Plane tickets, rooms, maybe a per diem for food? I would sign a waiver absolving them of anything horrible that could happen, and I would have the story of a lifetime. I am clean, quiet when need be, don’t take up much space and eat very little.

If you think that this would be a great idea, please contact Atlantic records, let them know I am a fan, reporter, vet, EDS sufferer and this would make my dreams come true. I would love you all long time and do a little dance maybe? Would love this to really happen.

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So I grew up in Germany for the first half of my life, the best half. Here are a few rules I am going to stick by as to not incriminate myself or others.

I will try not to use real names. I probably can’t remember them anyway.

I am going to jump around in time so much that The Doctor would go nuts.

I will trynot to give away any military secrets. Try.

ALL TRUTH! If I say I got laid in the stairwell of a German department store, it happened. I also smoked a huge doobie sitting with my friends at the Louvre glass pyramids.

I am going to turn this into a book and travel to these places for closure, I need closure.

Boring background stuff.

I was born in Asheville NC and lived in Waynesville NC for the first five whole years of my life up until then. I had no choice in the matter. My father, rest his soul, had been in the army and had done some time in Vietnam, not a popular thing at the time. He got out because, well he was wounded and got the FREAKING Purple Heart for his troubles. He came home to me and my screaming older brother. I think I was doing most of the screaming as I was born with a club foot. Yeah! Tiny baby comes out, doctor says, “I am gonna break that fucker until it is straight!”. He did and I was the baby with the cast who bugged the hell out of people by banging it on the floor like I was trying to tell them, “GET THIS BITCH OFF ME!”. My father knew. He knew that his meager prison guard pay was NOT going to pay for this whole family thing. So he disappeared for a few months. He came back, he was just getting back in the army. Yay!

First port of call, or whatever in army terms… Germany!

Picture this… My mom with five-year old me, twelve-year-old brother and many suitcases, in DC, alone and trying to find the freaking airport! She did, we boarded I guess and my new life was to begin! I also learned about barf bags that same day.

Landing in Germany was a bouncy time. I was five, 5= (Likes Bouncy)? Not so much. This is where I discover bags, that people somewhere make, any you are allowed to barf in them! First discovery once in Germany? We were moving to a place called Mannheim. Second discovery? We didn’t have a HOUSE! We had to live in “temporary housing”, which meant living on the 3rd story of a very nice Germany families home. I was a bit freaked out, with all the weird people speaking in a way I did not understand. I was 5! I was just getting the grasp of English when I was blindsided with this. I got past everything when one of the younger children saw that I only had the toys I brought on the plane as a carry on,and in a bold and selfless way, gave me a black, plastic, Lawn and Garden size bag of Lego! Can you imagine? A HUGE bag of Lego! I could build to the heavens.

All good things and all that, happened and we were assigned our first house in the military housing area. Meaning I lost some culture but discovered friends I could five-year old converse with. I also discovered Pomme Frites. These are the German version of french-fries, and are the , most amazing food ever! I will, no, I must have them again from a German Imbiss before death.

From humble beginnings in the Great Smokey Mountains, all the way to Germany at five years old. Hang tight folks, kissing, porno mags and a buffalo will be in the next installment.